


Magnets

by lazorjam



Series: One Shots [3]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Age Difference, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Shameless inspired Charles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 20:56:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9202886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazorjam/pseuds/lazorjam
Summary: Everyday, for three months, Erik had watched an attractive young man play the piano whilst he was waiting for his train to come in. It had taken him three months for him to build up the courage to finally talk to him and invite him for a cup of coffee.To his surprise, Charles accepted his request without thinking twice.





	

Charles was sat behind the public piano playing a rendition of Everglow by Coldplay when Erik finally plucked up the courage to go and talk to him. His backpack was on the floor by his feet and his long, thin fingers were moving over they keys effortlessly. One American tourist placed a £5 note on top of the piano as she passed, letting it join the other notes that were already piled up. Erik stood watching Charles as he did every night, only that night he was stood beside an elderly man in a tweed suit who was humming along and a young woman who was filming it on her iPhone. Erik just stood there in silence, watching in awe like he did everyday, Erik never getting bored of listening to the beautiful sound that Charles produced.

Listening to Charles play the piano had always been the highlight of his day. The attractive stranger would sit behind the bright pink piano and just play a few songs, his eyes shut and fingers moving along the keys like it was the most natural thing in the world. He had no idea why Charles did it, and had always just assumed that it was a hobby or a way to pass the time when he was waiting for his train to arrive. December the ninth was no different to any other day and, once Charles had finished playing, everyone clapped him and then walked off, back to their normal lives, leaving Charles to put the cash into his pocket and then pick up his backpack. Charles could feel someone still stood watching him. So he turned, only to be met by a tall, dark haired man with a square jaw and deep green eyes. Christ, had he seen Charles pocketing the money? After all it was, technically, illegal; he had ever right to panic.

Charles had first noticed Erik three months before when he stood watching him play for the first or second time. The man was handsome and clearly very wealthy from the Rolex on his wrist and his deep, amber scent. (Charles had noticed it when he brushed past him that same evening, the crowd around him large and difficult to navigate). But his wealth didn't really bother Charles, he just liked that he stopped to listen occasionally and would, he assumed, give him a few quid to help him pay his bills.

“I wasn't going to keep the money.” Charles informed Erik, his voice soft and slightly timid, the large man scaring him ever so slightly. For all he knew, Erik could have been an undercover police officer (he wasn't) or some sort of serial killer who had spent his time listening to Charles thinking about how he was going to kill him (he wasn't). To the younger man’s surprise, Erik laughed at his comment and shook his head, smiling.

“I never said you were.” He chuckled, giving the shorter man a smile. He then reached out his hand for Charles to shake. “I'm Erik.” He told Charles, deciding to not mention that he was a little bit in love with the way he sang, or that watching him perform was the highlight of his day. “I was just wondering if you wanted to go get a cup of coffee or something?” He questioned, Charles answering him with a relieved smile, then checking the time on his tattered Casio that he had picked up in Camden for £1 back when Camden wasn’t busy or ‘trendy’. He shook Erik’s hand and then put his hand back into the pocket of his jeans.

“Charles.” Erik gave him a little nod, some sort of odd feeling growing in his stomach after finally finding out the stranger’s name after all that time. “I've seen you watching me occasionally. Thank you.” Erik blushed and gave him a bashful smile, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal but failing miserably. “As for coffee, I would like that a lot.” Erik grinned in glee, glad that it hadn't all been in vain.

He had been waiting for ages to finally get Charles on his own and have a chat with him. Erik’s crush on him had been developing day by day and now, he was feeling more giddy than ever. But he didn’t want to rush things and create a bad first impression. Coffee was always a good first starting point.

“Well, I watch you everyday.” Erik informed him as they began to make their way towards the Starbucks Erik was a frequent visitor of. “You’re brilliant, you know.” He added and Charles let out a soft, shy laugh, making Erik’s stomach flutter. His laugh was light, airy and happy; god, perhaps Charles' piano skills weren't the only incredibly attractive thing about him. Erik immediately backtracked on his thoughts when he gave Charles another glance, noting the redness of his lips and the smooth curve of his nose. Okay, so his face was pretty incredible too. And his body; Erik had spent longer than he cared to admit looking at the gentle curve of Charles’ back as he played the piano, and the way his bottom seemed to look so perky when he was sat on the little stool. Erik immediately stopped thinking when he realised that to a stranger, or even a friend, he was probably beginning to step into ‘creep’ territory.

“Playing the piano had always been one of my ambitions. My father got me some music books for my 18th so after that, I just started coming here to learn and practice.” Charles informed Erik with a light smile, looking up to take in the other man’s facial features. He was far more handsome than Charles had ever noticed before, his eyes kind and wise, smile warm and friendly and lips ever so inviting. Charles had to tear his eyes away before his head filled with anymore thoughts like that. _Erik is just a nice man who wants to have a coffee with me and likes my music._ He tells himself as they walked into the busy Starbucks and joined the long queue, Charles deciding that allowing his eyes to wander to the menu board was a better idea than letting them wander back to Erik’s face or his muscular arms which were only exaggerated by the thick cotton of his shirt. 

“Well, you’ve been putting them to very good use.” Erik commented as he got his wallet out of his pocket, already knowing that he was going to get his usual drink. (A grande soy caramel macchiato with an extra shot). “What are you having?” He asked Charles, who appeared to suddenly be very interested in the menu board. Charles hummed in thought for a few seconds and then turned to look at Erik with a smile. 

“I’ll have a caramel macchiato. Tall.” He decided after a few more seconds to think his choice over and Erik almost laughed. _What a coincidence_ . He thought, then nodding and grinning to himself. Charles raised a confused eyebrow as he looked at the other man, studying his face. “Did I say something wrong?” His voice had become timid and shy again, Erik immediately feeling bad about his little chuckle. He shook his head and gave the other man a polite smile rather than one of his _flesh eating grins_ as Azazel so affectionately called them, not wanting to scare him off so soon, or convey the wrong impression.

“No, no. Just, I'm having the same.” He told Charles who then laughed too, shaking his head. “Sorry for worrying you.” Erik added as the barista leant over the counter and gave them both a smile. “One tall caramel macchiato and one grande soy caramel macchiato with an extra shot.” Erik told the barista and the girl nodded, smiling and then giving Charles a once over, eyes lingering on his shirt which he had had since the 00’s for longer than Erik deemed appropriate. He cleared his throat and gave the girl a look. 

“Can I get your names?” She asked quickly, scribbling onto the cups and then looks up to the two men expectantly, Erik’s death glared having made her quickly want to get rid of the pair 

“Charles.” “Erik.” They both answered at the same time and then laughed awkwardly, giving each other smiles. The barista nodded and wrote their names onto the cups before Erik pressed his card to the chip and pin machine and gave the girl a sickly smile before the moved on to the serving counter.

“So, where do you work?” Charles casually asked the elder man as he picksed out two coffee stirrers and a sachet of sugar from their holder, holding them in his small hand and gazing up at Erik, curious to find out exactly what the man’s profession was. He assumed he was a lawyer or a banker from the expensive suit, not being able to think of any other profession where a suit so presteigne would be required. Charles had seen ones like it on billboards and advertising posters before and, secretly, had  always wanted one himself but could never justify saving up to buy himself one as he would never have anywhere to wear it.

“I work for Tom Ford.” Erik answered, like it was the most casual thing in the world and Charles raised his eyebrows in surprise. Well, that wasn't quite what he had been expecting. “In their design department; I’m almost head of it now. I suppose you could say I’m Tom’s right hand man for when he's over here.” He added with a modest smile. Charles was already beginning to become fascinated by the man, itching to know more about the stranger with the Rolex and the pretty eyes. “Do you work?” Erik then asked and Charles thought to himself for a little while.

Really, he worked in the station and got all his money from when he was performing. He tended to do his better bits during the rush hour when there was more people going through the station but during the day would still sit and practice and play for the people coming through. He loved it.

“My friend, I wish I could say I had a proper job but really, playing is my job.” He informed Erik with a soft sigh, eyes flicking up to meet with elder’s before Charles becomes fascinated by one of their coffee stirrers again. “I have never had a real job, but I'm not a scrounger or anything like that.” He continued and Erik hesitantly nodded. “I live in the bad bit of Islington with my dad and my big sister sister, and her son, and our little brother. It's only a small place but it does the job.” Charles said with a shrug, then looking back up to Erik just nodded.

Whilst he wasn't expecting Charles to have a job like his, he was expecting him to maybe have _some_ sort job outside of the station. But he didn't mind, not really. He just enjoyed his music and that was that, Charles’ occupation and location have no real impact on his life, but he couldn’t help but feel a little bit like he should maybe help the man out, give him some cash or something. _You're just treating him like a charity, not a musician._ Erik thought, then picking up his cardboard cup of coffee as one of the baristas placed it on the counter and called his came, Charles’ arriving a few moments later.

“Well, all that matters to me is that you can play the piano better than most.” Erik commented, Charles blushing in return, then picking up his coffee. Erik was by far the nicest person he had spoken to that day and he had spoken to a few people; the man who walked his dog past their house at 6.16 every morning, the police officer outside their neighbor's house, one of the rail guards who stopped to listen to him whilst he was on his lunch break, and the station security guard she came by a few minutes later, asking him to move along. He looked back up at Erik as they made their way back into the main train station and then diverted his attention to the international arrivals board opposite them. “Where would you go?” Erik asked as they stopped, both looking up at the board. It was clear that Erik wanted to change subject, a little scared that he would ask too many questions and offend Charles.

“Paris.” Charles answered immediately, then sipping his coffee which burnt the end of his tongue. He hissed and then looked back to Erik from the lid of his cup. “And you?”

“Paris.” Erik said with a nod, eyes moving from the board and back to Charles, noticing the other wincing as he drank his coffee. He hums out a soft laugh and then looks back to the board. “The city of love.” He said in a faux French accent, making Charles laugh and a few tourists look over their shoulders to the two men to give them both a glare, showing their offence. Erik’s eyes then flicked to the clock at the corner of the board and he groaned quietly, realising that his train had already left after it being, for the first time in three months, on time.

“Shall we go have a cigarette?” Charles suggested after a few moments of silence as they began to walk again, going in the general direction of the exit. _That sounds like a wonderful idea._ Erik thought, yet to have his tobacco fix for the evening. He would have normally had a smoke on his walk from the train station to his house, but smoking with Charles somehow seems to be far more appealing to him. And he would have to have waited almost two hours otherwise. 

“Wonderful idea.” Erik announced, then following Charles out of the station and into the cold. It was raining again. Charles seemed to be totally unphased by it and fiddled around in one of the inner pockets of his coat, then producing a creased box of cheap cigarettes and his little pink BIC lighter. Erik dug his hand into his bag and then produced his own box of gold brand cigarettes and his metal, engraved lighter which he had gotten from Tom on his last birthday. Charles couldn’t help but chuckle at the large contrast between them, but decided to say nothing about it, and instead lit his cigarette, holding it between his fingers so he could have another swig of hot coffee. Erik did the same.

“When does your train get in?” Charles asked his companion, then raising the cigarette to his lips to have a slow drag, eyes fluttering shut at the heavenly bitter taste.

“Five minutes ago.” Erik answered, laughing to himself. “Next one is at half seven.” He informed Charles who then looked down at his watch. Hour and a half. That was a long time to be wandering around a train station for, something that he knew all too well.

“You can come back to mine? It's only a ten minute walk from here.” Charles suggested, almost too quickly and Erik tilted his head to try and work out if he was joking or not, distracting himself by having a sip of coffee to take the taste of the cigarette away. Secretly, he had always hated smoking but it had become an addiction so quickly that he didn't even realise he was becoming addicted, and after that he just couldn't stop smoking. Charles looked at Erik hopefully, his small hand cradling his cup of coffee in an attempt to keep his fragile fingers warm as he continued to smoke.

“Alright then.” Erik smiled and Charles grinned at him, then gesturing for Erik to follow him. They crossed the road and headed up the high street, Erik looking around his new surroundings intrigued and trying to keep a map in his mind of where he was going so he didn’t get lost on his way back to the station. He had never been outside the glass walls of the station before, so it was a totally new experience for him and he wasn't really sure if it was one he was liking.

Islington was so dirty and busy, people bumping into him without apologising and not caring when he spilt coffee on the thigh of his trousers after someone knocked his cup. Charles, on the other hand, was walking along with his head high and a smile on his face as he finished his cigarette and then stamped it out on the pavement. Erik would never do that, he was too scared that he wouldn't stamp it out well enough and the entire street would be set alight.

“Now, apologies in advance for my family, they're all rather… loud.” The walk to Charles’ house was a lot longer than Erik had been expecting and he was very thankful that they had finally arrived. The house in question was small, terraced and clearly a council home but Erik didn’t really mind a house was a house to him, no matter if the council owned it or Charles owned it.

Charles unlocked the door and then went in, holding the door for Erik who entered just after him, shutting and locking it and then looking around. The little kitchen was tidy and clean, a few bottles of spirits out on the countertop and some dishes in the sink. Erik almost triped over one of the toys that was idly sat on the floor but managed to rebalance himself before he went falling headfirst into the oven.

“Charlie? Can you come and give me a h- oh, hello. Who’s this?” The two men turned when Raven, Charles’ sister, came down the stairs, baby on her hip and bottle in her free hand. “Hi.” She hummed, giving Erik a once over as she finished her journey down the stairs and moved to stand beside her brother defensively. 

“Erik.” He reached his hand out for Raven to shake, then realising that she was unable to do so due to her having her hands full. Charles stifled a laugh and then took the little boy from his sister, cooing at him and then taking the bottle too, beginning to feed him. “I'm a friend of your brother’s.” He answered whilst the two shook hands awkwardly. The woman nodded slowly and then looked over to her brother who was completely preoccupied with the giggling baby. 

“Don't seem like a bloke who's familiar with council estates.” She muttered, Charles looking at her with wide eyes as he fed his nephew. “Flashy watch, nice suit… Yeah, you're from central.” She added, voice venomous as she took her son back from Charles, holding him close. “I'll leave you two to it. And city?” Erik raised an eyebrow at the nickname, but nodded to indicate he was listening. “My brother is better than you’ll ever be.” She whispered, making Erik step back and nod obediently, Charles covering his face with his hands, clearly mortified by his sister’s words. The two men watched as Raven put the baby into his pushchair and then left without saying goodbye or where she was going, leaving the two men alone again. Charles began to busy himself again by putting the kettle on, getting two mugs from the cupboard and placing them on the worktop equidistant apart with their handles facing him

"I'm sorry about that, about her.” He started, Erik having wandered over to the pin board, looking at a photo tacked to it. “She's really protective of me, anyone who comes over gets the same treatment so don't worry.” He added with a soft chuckle, Erik then looking over to him and giving him a smile. “That was when we went to Bournemouth ten, fifteen years ago.” Charles said as he walked over, to Erik and looked at the picture himself. “My first, and only, holiday. We went to a caravan park my uncle owned.” Erik’s smile faded and he nodded, glancing at Charles but his full attention on the photo. He wondered how old Charles was in the photo. He guessed maybe 12 or 13. He pressed his lips together as he looked back to Charles, allowing his eyes to wander over his face. Erik guessed that that would make Charles somewhere in his twenties, a decent ten years younger than himself. Erik shuddered slightly at that; he had told himself that he needed to stop fancying men who weren’t alive when he was born.

But besides that, Erik did feel sorry that Charles had never been on holiday apart from that. His family would go on holiday once a year at least and he would always take them for granted, complaining that they were going to Italy rather than the Seychelles or that the hotel wasn't totally up to scratch. To now be here with a man who seemed to have nothing but was still so cheerful made Erik feel a little guilty; guilty of his lavish cars and big house, his cleaner who came by twice a week, the electronic gates he had recently invested in for the thrill of it rather than his protection… it all suddenly seemed so pointless and such a waste of money when he could be helping out a family like this, helping them put food on the table everyday and allowing them to be able to treat themselves sometimes. _This house was no place for a baby_.

Erik didn't notice that he was tearing up until Charles pointed it out, the younger man reaching up to wipe away a few of the stray tears that had started to fall from Erik’s cheeks. Charles couldn’t understand why he was crying/ Erik looked back to the picture and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He then looked back to Charles and allowed his eyes to linger on his lips for a few seconds too long, making Charles laugh and gently pat him on the back.

“You deserve more than this. Everyday, you're in the station playing the piano like it's something you were born to do, just to earn money to keep your family happy and safe. I earn my money to spend, I have more than I know what to do with and I am so ignorant to people who are living like this.” Charles tilted his head and gave him a smile, letting his hang linger on Erik’s back as he spoke. “You are so happy, so together and united and loving and you deserve your own mansion and a career on stage and,” Erik paused to laugh to himself, shaking his head and then turning to look back at Charles. “And I want to do that, I want to help you achieve that Charles because you do deserve it. You and your family.”

“My friend, all my life I have been living in this house. When there was the eight of us, my dad looking after us, and now when there’s just the five us and we’re having to look after dad. Throughout it all money has never been an issues to us and we had made this place a home. We don't need mansions or flashy cars or any of that stuff. Family, that's what it’s all about.” He said, moving to gently stroke Erik’s bicep. “And I appreciate the gesture, I truly do, but we’re happy and healthy and united.” Erik had never thought about that prospect before, that family and unity was at the heart of how they kept going.

Erik and his family had always been wealthy and he was able to have a lavish upbringing but his father was always away, his brother too many years older than him to have a real bond and his mother always too occupied by her friends or which brand of wine they were to buy for their next dinner party which the boys were never allowed to attend. All in all, his family was very disjointed and even when they did go on holiday together, they would spend most of it arguing. Family was truly something Erik had never really had, but he wished it was.

“I'm sorry, I never meant it like that. I've just grown up in a place, environment, that's quite like this.” Erik grimaced and Charles gave him a smile that told Erik it was alright and he understood. He then went back to making them their tea, looking over his shoulder just as he was about to pour the milk into Erik’s mug. “Milk two sugars.” Erik told him as Charles then poured the milk into his mug. “Let me guess, same as you?” Charles nodded.

“See, we’re not so different after all.” Charles commented with a smile, and then passed Erik his mug, the taller man happily accepting it and cupping it in his hands, trying to keep himself warm. Another thing about the house was, although it was very small and cramped, it was freezing. Charles could clearly see that his friend was cold so just gave him an awkward smile and then led him through to the living room where their little heater was plugged in and blasting hot air into the room. Erik immediately began to warm up and they sat down on the sofa beside each other. “Our heating is broken and we have to wait until Jo gets paid to be able to get a repairman in.” Charles informed him and then curled up, tucking his small feet under his bottom and having a sip of his tea. Erik thought for a moment and then grinned, getting his phone from his pocket.

“I have a friend who’s a heating engineer, he could sort you out within the hour.” He informed Charles, almost excited by his ability to help the family. “And, as I’m a mate, it’ll be free for you, promise.” He reassured, tapping at his phone.

“Erik, you don’t have to do that.” He sighed and Erik shook his head stubbornly. “We’re fine, promise.” He tried to assure Erik, who was having none of it. He pressed dial next to the name and then shushed Charles who was still trying to stop him from phoning the engineer. Charles thought for a moment and what he could to do stop him and an idea then popped into his head; he would do what he used to do whenever Billy wasn’t doing as he was told. He began to tickle Erik’s side, making him drop his phone immediately and squeak, placing his tea down before he spilt it. Charles continued to tickle his sides, ignoring the loud laughter and begs for Charles to stop the other man was making. Before he knew it, Charles was sat on Erik’s lap, Erik’s large hands on his hips to try and get him to stop but the pair still laughing.

 

“Okay, okay. I won’t call him.” Erik laughed, picking up his phone and hanging up on David, then looking back to Charles who was still kneeling over his lap, Erik’s free hand resting on his hip still. The pair could both tell that the mood between them was no longer playful, Charles finding himself watching Erik’s rising and falling chest and eyes then wandering up to his lips and then his eyes which were telling him exactly what he was hoping they would; _kiss me._ Erik gently made his grip on Charles’ hips a little more secure and he ran his thumbs up and down slowly, the sensation making Charles’ skin itch with electricity. The two leant forward and their lips were then meeting in a slow kiss, Charles’ hand reaching to cup Erik’s cheek and the other man’s arms moving to wrap around Charles’ waist, pulling him closer. 

Charles pulled away first and looked at him, then letting out a soft giggle, then biting his lip. _God,_ Erik thought. _That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen._ He smiles at Charles who rests their foreheads together. Charles hadn’t really been expecting things to get so far so quickly but he wasn’t complaining. Erik was fit, and he was a _very_ good kisser. (He assured himself of this by kissing him again, Erik’s lips giving him exactly the same feeling as before). Plus it appeared that neither of them were seeing anyone which made things just fine and acceptable in his eyes, even if they had only known each other for an hour. But then, Charles had done a lot worse when he was drunk.

Erik’s head, on the other hand, was going crazy. What he thought would be a few drinks that just lead to nothing now had Charles, the cute little God of a man he had been crushing on for the last few month, poised on his lap and kissing him over and over again. This was better than he had ever expected. He leant forward to kiss Charles again and had his movement gladly accepted by the younger who kissed him and then pulled away, his hand moving up to run through Erik’s thick hair.

“Do you fancy going up to my room?” Charles whispered with a smile, Erik’s eyes lighting up at his words. “It’s… warmer there.” Erik laughed and then kissed him again.

"I would like that a lot.”


End file.
